


Meet the family

by IraBragi



Series: Building Home [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman being a good dad, Family Issues, Jason is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Transphobia mentioned but it's mostly off screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IraBragi/pseuds/IraBragi
Summary: Jason is meeting Aaron's family for the first time.  It doesn't go well.





	Meet the family

When the door creaked open Bruce froze, pen halfway to paper, his other hand moving under the desk for a weapon.  The scrape of the door opening further and footsteps across the carpet sounded loud in the mansion; Alfred was gone for the night, Dick and Tim were on patrol and the steps were too heavy to be Damien.

“Well pops, you win, you’re officially only the second worst parent ever.”  Jason didn’t sound drunk or injured but he and Aaron were supposed to be in metropolis visiting Aaron’s parents so Jason here, alone, could only mean that there had been trouble.

“Well that’s a comfort to know.”  Bruce kept his voice carefully neutral.  Jason flopped down on the floor and scrubbed his hands over his face, nervous energy radiating off him in waves.

“I take it that dinner didn’t go well?” Bruce ventured.

“They kept calling him “her”!” the outrage in his son’s voice paired with the slumped posture, reminded Bruce of Jason’s teenage outbursts. It would have been comical had it not been for the subject matter at hand.  Bruce didn’t known much about the other boy’s parents (despite what some people believed he really did only snoop when necessary) but unfortunately the statement didn’t surprise him.

“They were all polite at first, but like not polite, polite, more like there was a bad smell in the room and if nobody said anything then it would go away.  And they had these old pictures up of him and that was just /weird./  But whatever, but then they kept using the wrong pronouns and shit.”  

Jason jumped back up and began pacing the room.  Bruce debated the merits of offering a shot of bourbon.  After a moment he decided to wait and try to get the rest of the story first.  Alcohol tended to make things more tense between himself and his son, not less. Besides, the fact that Jason was here at all was a minor miracle as it was.  (Although, given what he’d heard so far, he would gladly forgo the miracle in favor of things going well to begin with.)

“And then his dad said something about if I was going to make an honest woman out of Aaron’s old name and, fuck, I just kinda saw red!”  Alarm bells that had been chiming quietly in the back of his head were blairning now.  Jason was, well, /prone to impulsivity/ was putting it lightly.  Things had been better lately but… crap.

“Um Jaybird, what exactly happened?  I promise I’m not going to be mad but I need to know.”  He put as much gentle patience into his voice as possible and desperately hoped that he was overreacting.

Jason turned and looked at him quizzically then laughed shortly.  “I didn’t hurt them or anything!  Christ bats!  Even I’m not that nuts.  I just kinda might have yelled a bit and um, jumped off the balcony, porch thingy… it was just the second story anyway.  I told them that their /son/ was the best man I knew, and that he was way too good to be dating a fuck-up like me, but as long as he would have me I wouldn’t hear him be misgendered… I kinda might have threw a knife at the wall at that point.”  Bruce can’t suppress a groan at that, and then another thought struck him.

“Jace if you’re here where is Aaron?  Did he leave with you?”

Jason looked at his hands sheepishly, “I’m, not really sure?”  I had to get out of there so I jumped off the porch thingy and ran and then I grabbed a car from one of Supe’s safe houses and, then I guess I got the bright idea to come here?”

In the fifteen odd years that he has been a parent Bruce has had his share of moments that left him speechless, both good and bad.  But off hand he can’t remember a moment that has been such a powerful mix of the two.

He’s truly thankful that his son had gotten to a point where his subconscious response to a meltdown is to come home.  After everything, it’s a piece of grace that he had never expected to receive.  On the other hand he’s worried about Aaron, now stuck with an unsupportive and possibly hostile family, in a different city.  Also the small matter of the hell Clark will give him if it gets back to him that Hood was terrorizing metropolis citizens (no matter how richly they deserved it.)  

A couple of deep breaths later another thought hits him.  “Jason you did leave the bike keys for Aaron, right?”  The boy (never mind that he’s six feet tall and outweighs him by twenty pounds, he’s still a boy and Bruce will fight anyone who says differently) pats his pockets and pulls out a ring of keys.

“Ops, but it’s ok!  I taught him how to hotwire it last week!”  The urge to slam his head against the desk was mounting, as was the need for that shot of bourbon.

“So I think it might, just possibly, be  a good idea to go and find where Aaron is right now and make sure that he has a LEGAL and ACCESSIBLE ride home.  And, far be it from me to suggest how you live your personal life (“yet you do all the time” cut in from across the room) but I /suggest/ a conversation with your boyfriend may be in order. (damm it, when had he started to sound like Alfred?)

Further conversation was cut off by the sound of a bike coming up the manor driveway.  If it had been the boys back from patrol they would have used the cave entrance.  A quick look out the window, and then a loud knock at the door, confirmed the matter - Aaron had apparently been paying attention during illegal-vehicle-starting class.  Bruce sighed; this was going to be interesting.

“Is that him?”  Jason flopped down into the chair and looked worriedly in the direction of the knocking.

“I believe so.  I suppose I’ll have to get that?”

“He’s going to be so mad.  He’s going to hate me.  Crap!  Tell him I’m not here!”  Bruce had plenty of personal experience with panic spirals and Jason was doing a fine job of working himself into one.  Turning back from the door, he walked over to the nearly-hyperventilating boy and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Breath Jason.  You are going to talk to Aaron and it’s going to be alright.”  The boy nodded and took a couple of shaky breaths.  “Good.  Wait here and I’ll go answer the door.”

As he marched down stairs Bruce fervently hoped that what he had just told his son was the truth.  Things had been better lately - Jason coming around more and fighting less, Red hood working more with the bats and less on his own, and Jason had seemed calmer, more in control - even happy at times.  Trauma like his death and subsequent un-death never went away (Bruce shuddered, some things no one should have to go through, and he would always hate himself for not protecting his son.)  Still, he was so grateful for every bit of progress that Jason made.  If his son’s big mouth and quick temper (albeit probably justified under the circumstances) had lost him one of the biggest reasons he had to keep trying to get better… Bruce’s heart ached for the inevitable fallout.

On the other hand, knife throwing and screaming matches (while frustratingly common place for the Wayne residence) really weren't acceptable behaviour.  Aaron had every right to be angry.  

By the time he reached the door the knocking had stopped but the the boy was still standing on the front steps, probably debating the merits of waiting versus trying the cave entrance.

“Is the idiot here?”  The tone was neutral but it was the wording that released the knot of worry in Bruce's gut.  If Aaron was truly mad it would have been “Is Todd here? Or even worse, “Jason Todd-Wayne.”  In Aaron-speak mild insults and name calling were a indicative of affection and it was formality that spelled trouble.

“He’s upstairs.”  

Aaron started past Bruce and then paused and half turned back, “He’s a good man, you know that right?  A moron who ran off with the keys, sure,” he amended with a fond smile, “but I think I’ll keep him anyway.”

Bruce nodded gravely and headed off to the cave.  He’d let the couple sort it out and they'd probably be long by the time he came back up stairs.  It was enough to know that his son had come to him when he needed someone and that there were people in Jason’s life who chose to see past the prickly and at times difficult exterior.  Bruce found himself almost smiling as he worked - for now, everything was just fine.


End file.
